


Under the Covers with You

by muttthecowcat22



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (not mcd though), Blood, Death, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Reed900 Week, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 19:36:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16456016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muttthecowcat22/pseuds/muttthecowcat22
Summary: His first preconstructed scenario was still running, burning through his memory, spreading errors.  Reed had moved.  None of his scenarios anticipated something so simple, and now they, he, Richard struggled to cope with the unfinished processes.





	Under the Covers with You

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for undercover day of @reed900week! It has the cheesiest title I’ve ever come up with (I’m so sorry :’D).
> 
> Please check the tags for warnings.

Gavin Reed was an idiot. 

That much had always been apparent. 

Richard had deviated within a week of working with him, which annoyed him greatly, though he suspected that had been the reason Captain Fowler assigned him to Reed in the first place.  It wasn’t like anyone could be around the detective long without having some kind of breakdown.

And it was Reed’s complete lack of competency that had gotten them into the most impossible situation of Richard’s life.

If Reed could have just stayed in the car while Richard negotiated the undercover red ice deal, one of them might have been spared.  But relinquishing any control to Richard seemed to be beyond him.

“Hey, Dick! Thanks for waiting for me.”  Reed sidled towards them, slow and calm, a stupid grin on his face, trying to convince the group across from them that their meeting had always been planned that way.  He rested his hand on Richard’s shoulder. 

Richard felt his chassis creak beneath it.

“There’s two of ya?”  The woman with the matted hair, the leader despite her short stature, leveled a glare at Richard.  She wouldn’t spare Reed the time of day it seemed.

Richard let his stress protocols snap into place.  He inched closer to the edge of the tall grass they were standing in, closer to the traffic on the highway.  “Of course.  You knew that up front. I never go anywhere without him.”

She pulled a gun out of her overgrown rain jacket, her lips pressed into a line.  “I don’t remember you saying that.”  The two remaining members of the group pressed closer to them, cutting them off from the highway despite Richard’s attempt to prevent it.

“Yep, he can’t survive without me.”  Reed’s voice echoed through the dark field, that stupid grin still on his face, his grip tightening on Richard’s shoulder.

A loud pop blew over them as the gun went off.

And now.  Now.  Richard was standing in the direct trajectory of a bullet aimed between his eyes.  Every scenario he preconstructed ended in disaster. 

Any way he dodged, the bullet would invariably hit Reed, who was standing a few points behind him.  If he blocked with his arm, the bullet would deflect and still hit Reed.

Only if Richard remained still and took the bullet would Reed be spared.

Idiot.

Richard cursed him.

And decided to stand still.

That would be the end of his current body.  It wasn’t yet clear if a deviant could be uploaded into a new one.  Richard supposed it didn’t matter.  He was obsolete before he had even been activated.

He exited the preconstruction program, and time sped up around him.  The bullet hurtled towards him.  He closed his eyes and . . .

And nothing.

A gun went off.  Then another.

Richard opened his eyes and sprang to action, preconstructing then knocking out the two group members who were still standing, his back to Reed the entire time. 

When he turned, all was quiet.  The woman with the matted hair lay in a pool of her own blood, the straw obscuring the mess from the highway.  Reed stood to the side, already calling the incident in to the precinct, a task Richard should have done, but . . . but his software had malfunctioned.

His first preconstructed scenario was still running, burning through his memory, spreading errors.  Reed had moved.  None of his scenarios anticipated something so simple, and now they, he, Richard struggled to cope with the unfinished processes.

Anger rocketed through his code.  An idiot emotion slipping through his fingers just as quickly as the detective.

Richard knew he was hit, at least twice, the bullet hadn’t exited either.  But Reed stood straight, finishing the call with a low “A’ight, we’ll be here.”  He’d shoved his left hand in his pocket, his arm pressed closely to his side.  He couldn’t hide the blood though. 

Richard had been designed to hunt deviants, so the dark maroon color in the twilight over the field still unsettled him, a feeling which Connor had perhaps learned to handle better.  It sank into the grass around the woman, splattered across Reed’s face, and seeped slowly into the pocket of his jacket and pants leg. 

“You’re bleeding, detective.”

“Shut up, tincan.” But the words were weak, quiet.

Richard focused on his task of handcuffing the two surviving men and handing them off once the other officers arrived.  Reed helped mark off the scene, walking the perimeter with an even gait.  The spot on his pants leg grew larger.

Richard ignored the way the detective’s breaths came heavier as he uploaded his visual footage to the DPD server, nearly forgetting the issue until Reed slumped over on the officer next to him.  It was Lieutenant Anderson, who was fortunately large enough to catch him.

Richard blipped the emergency line immediately, as he should have done when he first realized Reed had been shot, as he would have done if his processors weren’t still on fire, if he could just find something to focus on.  His legs jerked with every step towards the lieutenant.

“Someone call an ambulance!  Fucking Reed’s been shot!”  Blood dripped on the lieutenant’s arm, running all the way down the detective’s leg.

“I’ve already notified emergency services, Lieutenant.”

-

Richard sat in a chair in the room.

There was nothing to focus on, nothing to do.

He could no longer distinguish the beeps of the monitors from his own processes.

He didn't move, didn’t breathe, didn't need to.  It was superfluous.

His chair was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, neither hot nor cold.  The constant red light reflecting on the wall annoyed him.  He thought of prying it out but also found no real need to move.

Anderson and Connor had been the last to leave, and Richard had offered to stay.  He didn’t need to eat or sleep, after all.

And he was alone.

He was but he wasn’t.

It didn't matter.

Reed had woken a few times after surgery, but he hadn't been present then.  He'd looked at Richard and hadn't known him. He'd recognized Anderson instead, but that was all.

His temperature had risen.  His body shook.  Chills.  Richard had never seen them before.  He wondered what they felt like, if Reed could even feel them.  They wouldn't stop, even when the nurse came to help.

A human nurse.

"You've known him a long time?" she'd asked.

"Not particularly."  Richard rubbed his hand over his temple.  He felt . . . ashamed he supposed, of the light.  Another unwanted emotion.

She looked at him for a moment, her eyes reflecting the red light.  "He's stable. You can rest if you need to."

"There's no reason for me to rest."

She'd checked the remainder of the monitors, administered another dose of one of the multiple medications that Reed needed, and left.

The light from the hallway was nearly blinding as she stepped through the door. 

Richard's eyes shouldn't have needed the time to adjust.

But there were beginning to be many things that Richard shouldn't have needed.  It was better not to dwell on them.

The chills stopped eventually.  Sweat gathered on Reed's forehead.  The monitors began to beep with great frequency.

Not long after, Reed opened his eyes.

Richard prepared himself for another half-awakened interlude.

Reed groaned, his voice hoarse, cracking.  He rubbed his eyes with both hands.  "Wha' happened?"

"You were transported to the hospital, detective, after collapsing."

Reed's eyes landed on Richard, reflecting that annoying red light again.  He attempted to sit up from the bed, wincing as his torso began to curl.  He lay down again.

"Is that you, Rich?" 

So Reed recognized him then.  The light in Reed’s eyes flashed yellow for a moment.  "It's Richard, detective."

"Asshole." He coughed then wrapped his arm weakly around his middle.  "Come over here so I can see you."

Richard's joints squeaked as he stood from the chair for the first time in days.

"Ugh." Reed tried to lift his hands over his ears, wincing. "You fucking sound like you're really made of tin."

"And you sound as bright as ever."

Reed looked up at him as Richard finally convinced his legs to move towards the bed.  "Why're you even here?"

"To watch you."

"Creepy as ever." A drop of sweat ran down his forehead, shining red in the light. He looked away. "Okay go sit down again or whatever. I'm going back to sleep."

Richard moved back towards his chair reluctantly. Once he stood, he did not want to sit down again.  Another idiot human impulse.  "Sweet dreams detective."

"Fuck you."

The room settled back into silence minus the beep of the heart monitor for a few minutes before Reed violently threw the covers off the bed.  Richard did not react.

"I'm literally on fire."

"I can assure you, detective, that you’re not."

Reed rubbed at his neck, tangling the wires leading from his arm.  "Hospital can't even do their jobs."

"You've already been given medication to bring down your fever."

Reed rolled over and groaned.

"Would you like me to call the nurse?"

Reed merely groaned again, so Richard notified the nurse's station.  Another flash of yellow in constant red.

The nurse entered the room, efficient as ever, extremely so for a human.  "Mr. Reed, glad to see you awake."

"I'm burning up." He coughed again, the force of it shaking the bed.  It sounded horrible.

The nurse studied the numbers on the monitor which had been clearly visible the entire time:  99.8

"Your fever's come down quite a bit from earlier.  Would you like some water?"

Reed balked at her polite manner.  "No, nevermind," he muttered into the sheets.

"Let me know if anything else changes," she said, then left as quickly as she had appeared.

He was quiet for a few moments, staring at the ceiling.  Darkness settled back into the room.

"Hey, Rich, you have any kind of - I don't know - freezer setting?"

"I can cool my extremities by a few degrees on demand."

"You think you could do that now?"

Richard stood from his chair again, oddly relieved, Reed hissing at the squeaks in his legs.  He let the thirium in his vessels pool away from his hands. 

When he approached Reed, sweat continued to drip down his forehead, shining on the skin of his arms.  His face seemed darker, though Richard found it difficult in the twilight of the room to discern whether he was flushed.

Richard grasped his extended hand.  It was indeed burning, the energy vibrating up Richard’s arm, his sensors flashing: _drastic temperature change_.  But the skin was soft, overwhelmingly so, Reed’s pulse fluttering just beneath the surface. 

Richard had only ever touched a living human’s skin before in passing.  He’d never considered how fine it was, how close the blood ran to the surface. Like his own skin, but not, the life in it weighing on his chassis, pushing on the simulation still running in his preconstruction software.

“Thanks.” Reed’s eyes had fallen shut again, his words no more than a whisper.  He grasped at Richard’s other hand and brought it to the side of his face, shuddering. “That feels so nice.”

The blood in his jaw, his cheek, ran even hotter than in his hand, the skin softer.  Richard felt the structure of the bones beneath it, the muscles tensing and releasing as his eyelids flickered, the pulse a strong constant beat. 

Something in Richard’s chest clicked and stuttered.  His thirium pump.  A warning message flashed in the corner of the room: _pump syncing to local source_ , and his pulse quickened to match Reed’s.  That had never happened before, a push more difficult to keep his hands cool, the thirium inherently pulled to run above the human skin, detect the electrical impulses there.

“Your, uh, LED’s still red.”  The hinge in Reed’s jaw clicked once as he spoke.  Richard removed his hands.

“Obviously.”  Richard walked to the sink to wet a rag and fill the glass the nurse left with cool water.

“Wow.  I thought you were tired or just being you.  But you’re really mad aren’t you?”  The red light flashed in Reed’s eyes, pulsing ever quicker.

Richard’s arm shuddered, locking halfway through the motion of handing Reed the glass.  “Why did you jump in front of me?”

Reed reached out instead, prying his fingers from the glass one by one.  “What’re you talking about?”

“Why did you jump in front of a bullet that was meant for me?”  Richard’s voice came out modulated.  The preconstruction simulation burning hot in a final burst of coding before it died.

Reed looked up at him from his cuts and bruises, and pain, the packed wound on his abdomen that Richard knew lay just beneath his gown, the red light in his eyes, flashing, flashing, flashing.  He patted the bed with the hand on his good side, and Richard sat beside him, careful not to jostle the mattress, his legs shaking.

“You would have died, you idiot.”  He let out a dry laugh as he set the glass on the side table, reaching for Richard’s hand again. 

He pulled him down to lay beside him, his head on Reed’s shoulder, and Richard let him.  Reed's skin felt more feverish than ever, so Richard let the skin on his face cool, and Reed pulled him closer, shivering, pressing Richard's forehead into his neck.  The life there, the strong pulse, weighed on Richard again, his thirium pump syncing with Reed’s heartbeat once more as the beeping of the monitors and his background processes faded. 

“You’re the idiot,” Richard mumbled into his shoulder.  He could feel the skin on his face retracting, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Yeah, well,” Reed shifted beside him, grasping Richard’s hand again, “how long was I out for?”

“Four days.”

“Could’ve been longer.”  He yelped when Richard squeezed his hand with a little too much force.  “It was worth it.”  He sounded smug, but Richard let him have the moment. 

He stayed quiet, Richard feeling his heart, his breathing in the silence.  His hand rubbed small circles on Richard’s arm, giving him a focus.  Processes died one by one.  “You look tired.  Why don’t you get some sleep?” he asked.

“I don’t sleep.”

“Then whatever it is you do.”  Richard smiled at his put out tone and let the last of his processes slip into stasis.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! 
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](https://muttthecowcatridesagain.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/cowcatandsilver)!


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